Pan Dignified
by AngelxCollins
Summary: Collins' look on love and his life, aka Angel. Collins wasn't gay. He wasn't straight either. But he was in love. Collins POV.


Christmas Eve, ah yes, Christmas Eve. How could I forget that one magical night? The night my life truly began.

I'll be honest, I never had loved before. Never thought it was for me. I was pretty damn sure my work would prove to be the only love I experienced.

If I told people my story, who my lover was, what she stands for. They wouldn't get it. How could they? My Angel was just that, an Angel.

I can clearly remember the events of that Christmas Eve. Earlier that day, I got a call from an advisor over at NYU, offering me a teaching gig. I couldn't pass that up; I didn't plan on doing anything else with my life. I guess you could say I was happy, but was I really?

I had lived in a crappy apartment right outside of Cambridge, Mass, but I figured I could go live with my guys, Mark and Roger.

After a couple hours of traveling to my old bohemian hell, I came upon an all too familiar street, I saw a geeky albino peek his head over the balcony, "Throw down the key!" I screamed up at the pumpkin-headed blond. He tossed it over the side, and returned to his filming. Probably trying to convince that depressed ex-rockstar-wannabe to leave the apartment for the first time in who knows how long.

Of course Mark being Mark had bad aim, or maybe I just could never catch… but for whatever the reason, as I caught the key in my hand I stumbled and dropped it. I groaned, a few shady figures were approaching me, just what I needed.

"Hey man, you got a light?" the head of the group asked.

I picked up the key, shoved it in my pocket, simultaneously grabbing for my lighter. Ah shit. These punks got me good, didn't see what was comin' or goin'. One of the assholes grabbed onto the side of my coat, another one pushes me to the side. Tryin' to grope me or somethin' to get to my wallet.

They fucking tried to mess me up, but I couldn't be happier looking back at it now.

After only 10 minutes of beating the shit out of me, they slammed me into an abandoned alley way. I never complained too much, but with blood gushing out from so many places I can't even begin to count, I figured what the hell. Might as well stir up any commotion I could get.

Just seconds later I heard the drumming from the street corner. I didn't really expect anyone to come. To be perfectly straight forward, I wasn't sure I wanted anyone to save my sorry ass.

"You okay, honey?" I looked over to see someone coming my way. I saw a light glowing around them… it was… magical, heavenly. Well damn, I must be dead, I thought. That kinda sucked, now Roger and Mark would never have their key back.

"I'm afraid so."

That's when I looked into my Angel's eyes for the first time. My stomach sank. This person was dazzling, a simple beauty, but damn. Drop dead gorgeous. And here I am, looking like shit with blood staining my shirt, pants, and anything else I mighta been wearing then.

And that's the moment I knew I was in love. I wasn't gay. Wasn't straight either. I was in love.

Love doesn't discriminate, not for me, I wouldn't let it.

Haha, I remember one day, a week after Angel and I met. Mark sat me down and asked, "So… is Angel your boyfriend? Or… girlfriend?"

I just shook my head, "No Mark… Angel is so much more. Angel is my lover, my life, my soul."

Mark had laughed, "That's pretty deep, man," he paused and looked more seriously into my eyes, "You know, I'm really happy for you, Collins. Angel's already starting to teach Roger how to love again. Just yesterday… Mimi Marquez, the dancer, came over. Roger brought her into his room. They spent all night talking, and laughing. I haven't seen him this happy since… April."

Angel liked to pick up the pieces of everyone's broken hearts and mend them together.

So when I say I love Angel, I mean Angel. I don't mean I love a girl. I don't mean I love a guy. Angel is Angel, my Angel. My love. And my life.

I wouldn't trade Angel for a thousand more years.

**I don't read anything I write after I write it, because then I'd delete it and I'd never get to be a better writer. So if you see mistakes, it's just me falling down and picking myself back up. :) The title has like absolutely no meaning. But being pansexual is like... loving someone not based on their gender. That's pretty much what I am, I guess, and that's what Collins is now! Hehe:) This story is dedicated to Mrs. Angel Collins and my girl Amy. Much love, Muffy!! I don't own RENT, bee tee dubs! **


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